


Hail is a Great Icebreaker

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Hurt and Irritated Charles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik came out of the bus after him, digging around his own bag for something. Ah. The douchebag had brought an umbrella. How the hell had he known there would be a hailstorm? If he was going to rub this in Charles’s face later… Charles grumbled at the thought, slowly progressing forward, when he was suddenly relieved from the onslaught of hail.</p><p>Charles looked up, confused. Erik stood there, close, very close, holding the umbrella over Charles’s head. Erik “Mr. Keep Out of My Personal Space” Lehnsherr, Erik “Mr. You Forgot It You Deal With It” Lehnsherr, was standing in Charles’s personal space, dealing with the fact that Charles had quite evidently forgotten something.</p><p>-</p><p>In which Charles finally gets fed up with all of the shit that Erik's been piling up on him since their turbulent friendship started off.</p><p>(UPDATE (8/29/14) Now with Erik's PoV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the second AU here. [X](http://balletlock.co.vu/post/94722486490/quentincoldwater-offers-other-person-the-second)
> 
> This account has been sitting here uselessly since I signed up. I wanted to contribute somehow, and I actually got ideas, and I tried, so here's a story that has yet to be proofread.
> 
> Also I've really wanted to write Charles all pissed off at Erik after I've seen the movies because that's realistic, but not have it in romantic relationship issues because those really bother me.

                Charles Xavier really didn’t like Erik Lehnsherr. The first and foremost reason was that, every time they fixed their broken friendship, Erik would pull and asshole move that would inadvertently hurt him in the process. The second reason, which he would never tell anyone, was that he found Erik distractingly attractive, and was also kind of in love with him. It wasn’t that kind of infatuation love. It was more like that “I love you, Erik, and I always will, but you are a complete and total douchebag and violence isn’t going to solve anything.”

                That kind of caring nurturing love. That romantic kind of love that some married couples would have. Disgusting. As things were now, Charles was in the process of trying to forgive Erik, and Erik was probably denying that he did anything wrong.

                When they’d gotten on the bus, Charles had made sure that he didn’t sit next to Erik, despite how much the other had begged when they were standing at the station. Charles had glared at him then, much like how he was glaring at the back of Erik’s head now, sitting a row behind him. The experimental device on the base of Charles’s spine that helped him with his paralysis chaffed against the back of the seat as one of the wheels went over a bump.

                Charles shifted irritably. The device was among the first of its kind, designed to help those with paralysis. It inflicted great mental strain upon him, calling for many more hours of sleep in order to subsist. However, he’d reasoned that it was better than having to use a wheelchair. He’d been awkward on it for the first few months, and had trouble feeling like anything other than an inconvenience, despite others’ protests. Besides, if he used the device, he would also be assisting in the advancement of the device.

                He didn’t really like it. It was delicate and didn’t react well to water, in addition to being slightly heavy, but at least it wasn’t bulky. And, at the very least, if he looked past all the jerky motions he sometimes made, it made sure that he was actually getting the proper amount of sleep.

                Charles wasn’t born paralyzed. That was more of Erik’s fault. When they’d become friends the first time, Erik had been a man on a mission. A mission filled with hot anger, an almost unhealthy obsession, traumatic childhood experiences, and a man named Sebastian Shaw. Erik had never elaborated about why he hated Shaw so strongly, yet, when he and Charles were on an empty freeway late at night, Erik had still chased after Shaw’s car recklessly when he’d seen it up ahead.

                They’d crashed into Shaw’s car that night. Shaw had died, Charles was in a coma for two months with the end result being the loss of the use of his legs, and Erik had ended up mostly unscathed. Erik has also left and moved on with his life, not even dropping by to check if Charles had lived. The nurse said that Erik had practically lived in the room for the first week, but after that, his visits had dwindled, and by the time Charles had woken up, he was all but present.

                It had taken Charles many months to forgive Erik that first time, when Erik had moved into the apartment next door and barged his way back into Charles’s life. After that, it had been a continuous cycle of Erik hurting Charles and leaving, and Charles slowly letting him back in when Erik stood at his doorstep, a little worse for wear.

                When the bus finally pulled over at the bus stop a few blocks away from his apartment, Charles was snapped out his not-very-happy reverie. He pulled himself to his feet and looked outside, while he moved his legs a bit. They’d grown stiff in the five minutes he’d been sitting.

                Charles winced when he saw the hail. Before the accident, a little bit of hail was no problem, but this was more than just a little bit of hail and his paralysis device was more than just a little fragile. Still, this was his stop, and Erik’s, so he had to get out, whether he wanted to or not.

                Charles felt as if he should have brought an umbrella. Still, the weather had been sunny when he’d boarded, and the weather channel had said nothing about hail here. Maybe a few miles north, but not _here_. He groaned and forced himself out of the bus, one hand moving instinctually to protect his messenger bag, and his other hand shielding his lower back to protect the device. The hailstones weren’t too big, but there they hit, they stung, and it was all Charles could do to run under the bus stop roof, cursing the fact that he didn’t have an umbrella. He waited a few moments before heading back out into the storm.

                Erik came out of the bus after him, digging around his own bag for something. Ah. The douchebag had brought an umbrella. How the hell had he known there would be a hailstorm? If he was going to rub this in Charles’s face later… Charles grumbled at the thought, slowly progressing forward, when he was suddenly relieved from the onslaught of hail.

                Charles looked up, confused. Erik stood there, close, very close, holding the umbrella over Charles’s head. Erik “Mr. Keep Out of My Personal Space” Lehnsherr, Erik “Mr. You Forgot It You Deal With It” Lehnsherr, was standing in Charles’s personal space, dealing with the fact that Charles had quite evidently forgotten something. Charles suddenly felt very warm, despite the chill in the air. At least he had that very chill to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. He was blushing. Like some teenage with a high school crush. What the fuck.

                If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Erik was standing a bit closer than necessary. But he knew better. I knew that Erik was just the jerk that lived next door that was sometimes friends with Charles for reasons that weren’t entirely evident to Charles at that very moment.

                Only Charles’s need for self-preservation kept him under the umbrella, however that didn’t stop him from shooting Erik an inquisitive looked wrapped in a judgmental glare.

                Erik simply shrugged and moved closer.

                Questions started to build themselves up in Charles’s head, but he managed to keep them suppressed, or at least he tried to, until they were both inside the elevator in the apartment complex, heading up to the 12th floor.

                 “Alright,” Charles said at last. “What was that?”

                 “What?” Erik asked. Very talkative.

                 “The whole thing with the umbrella and intruding upon my personal space,” Charles shot back. “Because that’s very unlike you.”

                 “It was hailing out there, Charles, or were you too blind to see that?” Erik said calmly, obviously not as worked up about this as Charles was.

                 “I’m not blind, and I'm definitely not dumb, Erik,” Charles replied angrily. “You treat me like fucking _dirt_ for weeks, and then you come waltzing back into my life like you haven’t done anything wrong.” Erik opened his mouth indignantly to say something, but Charles held up a hand. “No, Erik, I’m not done speaking. You go about, making my life utterly miserable. Hollowing out a hole for yourself in it and then pulling some stupid ass move and leaving. Not to mention the _pain_ you cause each time you do. And then you have the, the _nerve_ to come back expecting me to welcome you with open arms. I don’t love you _that_ much.”

                Erik opened his mouth again to say something, but Charles effectively smothered out what he would have said by placing a firm hand over Erik’s mouth.

                “I’m still speaking, Erik,” Charles said, forcibly calm. “I mean, why do you even keep coming back? You’re a very objective man, and literally everything you do is a means to an end. Subsequently, every ‘friendship’ you make is also a means to an end. Everyone you know you only know because they help you somehow. I don’t know about you, Erik, but I’m pretty darn useless, especially after you crashed the car.”

                Erik make an indignant noise from behind Charles’s hand, but Charles silenced him with a glare.

                “So what purpose do I serve, Erik? And on that note, I’d also like to inform you that human beings don’t like to be used, especially when feelings are involved. And looking attractive isn’t going to help you out of this one.”

                Yeah, Charles, alright, let’s just get it all out now. No regrets. Actually, it felt more like all the regret in the world, but it was a bit too late to go back, and he really couldn’t bring himself to care.

                At this point, Charles had quite effectively pinned Erik against the side of the elevator. The rickety old thing was still chugging up past the ninth floor. If it wasn’t for the smoothness of the ascent, Charles would have easily believed anyone that told him that the metal box was still pulled up manually.

                “So, Erik, fess up,” Charles said, removing his hand from Erik’s mouth. “Why?”

                “I’m sorry.”

                What. This was Erik “I Don’t Even Know The Meaning of Sorry” Lehnsherr, and he, of all the people in the world, would not simply say they were sorry.

                “I-I hadn’t realized I was hurting you so much,” Erik continued.

                Charles snorted and glared at the wall.

                “No, no listen. I knew I hurt you physically, but you always let me back in in the end. It felt like a cle—”

                “Clean slate,” Charles interrupted in disbelief. “Erik, are you even human? Have you heard of things called feelings? If you weren’t aware, _Erik_ , I have a hell of a lot of them.”

                Erik looked hurt at that, but Charles couldn’t find it in him to feel sorry for him.

                “I realize that now,” Erik said softly, and Charles scoffed. However, it was Erik this time that silenced Charles with the sincerity written on his face and woven into his voice. “I’m sorry, Charles, I really am. It’s just that I…I took you for granted. You were always a shoulder I could lean on. I hadn’t realized, I hadn’t know that I was hurting you like that in the process and I… Charles, you’re very important to me. Charles, I love you please just—can you forgive me? I’ll try my best to-to—”

                At this point, Erik was in tears, soft sobs racking his body. Seeing Erik in a moment of weakness like this was perfect for blackmail material, and had the mood and conversation been any different, Charles probably would have taken pictures to document it. However, he couldn’t. Something deep within his heart wouldn’t even let him consider it. Instead, he pulled Erik down into a hug, guiding his forehead to rest on Charles’s shoulder.

                “Ssh,” he said quietly, as soothingly as he could. “It’s okay,” he assured him. “I forgive you. Just don’t pull anymore dick moves okay?”

                Erik nodded just as the elevator dinged, and the door opened.

                “My apartment, now,” Charles said after a second of thought.

                Once they were safely inside, Charles confronted Erik.

                “So. You love me.” Charles said, backing him up against the couch.

                Erik nodded.

                “Great,” Charles said, moving in for a kiss. “I love you too. Now remember, I’m fragile.”

                Erik met him halfway.

                For the first of many times.


	2. Erik's PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same story, but from Erik's Point of View, as suggested by an anonymous person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun.  
> I've seen other things where people wrote the same story from another person's PoV before, but they always felt too similar to the other story. Considering how I feel that 3rd person (non-omniscient) is indirectly narrated from the character it focuses on, I felt that, though the events were the same, they would have been perceived differently, and each character enters into the events with a different backstory, and different memories in mind. So there's new information in this story, and some of it was omitted. The story remains the same though.  
> I don't know.  
> I hope you like it.  
> (It's a bit longer too. Oops.)

                If Erik Lehnsherr was given a questionnaire asking if he’d rather punch an enemy or try to talk him out of his maniacal path of destruction, he’d would, most definitely, choose the first option. Why waste the time trying to argue a point when all of life’s troubles could be solved with a bit of adrenaline, impulsiveness, and a good, hard punch to the face?

                That had been how he’d dealt with everything up until the time he’d gained something known as a friend. A something that he cared about, a something that could get hurt, and a something that didn’t agree with half of the opinionated things that came out of his mouth. In Erik’s head, everything had seemed so crystal clear. Solutions were obvious. But the second he had to factor another person, it all fell apart.

                He tried to force his miracle cure all just days after they first met. Charles had been an important stop on his personal vendetta against Shaw. Whether Charles had known it or not, he’d known information so important, so vital, that it had been the final piece in the puzzle of locating Shaw.

                “Schmidt, yeah,” Charles had said, over a glass filled with some sort of alcohol, barely any of it left on the bottom. “He’s staying in the hotel by the…by the freeway.”

                First meetings at bars rarely led to healthy relationships, and even though they’d done nothing together that night, or any night after that, Erik had felt something deep in his gut. Probably the whiskey. Erik didn’t know what had compelled him to later spill out the story of the last ten years of his life to the man he’d only just met. Maybe it was the alluring blue eyes. The smile on his face.

                The next few days left Erik terribly besotted with the young professor. However, when they were on the freeway a night or two later, all that love he felt was burnt away by a raw hatred that could only be incurred by the sight of Shaw. Or his car, but that was plenty close enough.

                Shaw had died that night, when Erik had crashed into him. So had Charles. The animated man Erik had spent the previous few days with was not the motionless, half-dead Charles lying in a hospital bed, suspended between a state of life and death. Unfortunately for Erik, his love for Charles didn’t seem to fade away. Rather it multiplied tenfold. He needed to get away.

                Months later, when Erik came back, Charles was in a wheelchair. He’d been reluctant to let Erik back into his life, but he’d caved in the end. He’d welcomed Erik back in with the same smile that he’d flashed him when they met in the bar.

                Then Erik managed to fuck things up again.

                And then they repaired the tattered friendship.

                And then Erik fucked up. Again.

                The pattern went on for a few years exactly like that.

                “Charles, can you sit next to me?” Erik asked, trying to patch things up.

                “No.”

                “Charles, please, there’s something I need to tell you,” he persisted.

                “No, Erik.”

                “Plea—”

                “Fuck off, Erik,” Charles spat as the bus pulled up. “I really don’t want speak with you right now.”

                Erik watched as his once-friend awkwardly climbed up the bus steps, his left hand moving to his back to protect his prosthetic that helped with the paralysis in his legs. A prosthetic that he needed because of Erik. Well. That made him feel terrible.

                Erik granted Charles the quiet that the other had seemed to want for the length of the bus ride. Instead, he turned his attention to the outdoors. Oh. When had it started hailing? At least his umbrella was in its customary place. He was used to using it when he travelled, so it had become something of a necessary utility that he always carried with him.

                The next thing that occurred to him was that Charles probably didn’t bring an umbrella, judging from the appalled sound that came from behind him as the bus pulled to a stop. The solution was somewhat obvious. Share an umbrella with Charles, keep the hail off him and his prosthetic. No one dies. No one gets hurt.

                Charles stormed off the bus first, heading for the shelter of the bus stop overhang. Erik hadn't moved quick enough to avoid the bustle of the other passengers getting out at the stop, but, the second he was outside, he took out his umbrella and opened it wide, stepping over to where Charles was standing. How much of Charles was fragile? Best just to make sure that no part of him would get hit by the hail.

                An apology for his past actions was on his tongue, but when Charles looked up, cheeks red from the cold, the words died in this throat, not even coming up to his mouth, refusing him the stutter that probably would have fit the situation quite well.

                Charles’s confused look was soon replaced by a glare, but at least he wasn't moving away. Maybe he was still getting hit by the hail. Erik moved closer. That was a terrible excuse, but it justified enough for Erik’s psyche.

                It was only when they were inside the apartment complex in the slow elevator heading up to the 12th floor, where they both lived in separate apartments next door to each other, that Charles made the first move.

                “Alright. What was that?” There was a sharpness in his voice and a suddenness in his speech.

                “What?” Erik asked as innocently as he could. It sounded convincing enough.

                “The whole thing with the umbrella and intruding upon my personal space,” Charles said with venom. “Because that’s very unlike you.”

                Erik took a deep breath to compose himself. Yeah, maybe it was a bit out of character for him. But then…

                “It was hailing out there, Charles, or were you too blind to see that?” Ah yes. The very convincing excuse.

                “I’m not blind, and I'm definitely not dumb, Erik,” Charles said, his angry glare matching the tone of his voice. “You treat me like fucking _dirt_ for _weeks_ , and then you come waltzing back into my life like you haven't done anything wrong.”

                Well then. He wasn’t that insensitive. Then again he wasn't on the receiving end of his own actions, so maybe he was. Also, it was kind of hot, seeing Charles worked up into a rage like this. _Hush mind. Now’s not the time._ He tried to say something, but Charles lifted up his hand, silencing him.

                “No, Erik, I'm not done speaking. You go about, making my life utterly miserable. Hollowing out a hole for yourself in it and then pulling some stupid ass move and leaving. Not to mention the _pain_ you cause each time you so. And then you have the, the _nerve_ to come back expecting me to welcome you with open arms. I don’t love you _that_ much.”

                Wait. Charles loved him? He opened his mouth to say something, but Charles clamped a firm hand over it. Erik was suddenly compelled to lick it, but the thought was too childish. He forced himself to listen to the other stuff that Charles had said. How he’d hurt him. He winced mentally. Perhaps it was worse than he'd thought.

                "I'm still speaking, Erik," Charles said, his voice sounding restrained. "I mean, why do you even keep coming back?"

_Because I love you, obviously._

                "You're a very objective man, and literally everything you do is a means to an end."

                _What if you're the end I am attempting to achieve?_

                "Subsequently, every 'friendship'–"

_Rude._

                "–you make is also a means to an end. Everyone you know you only know because they helped you somehow."

_Okay true, but..._

                I don't know about you, Erik, but I'm pretty darn useless, especially after you crashed the car."

_Charles, useless, no you idiot, you're not that, please just listen to me–_ Erik made an attempt to verbalize his thoughts, but Charles glared at him so harshly that he immediately stopped.

                "So what purpose do I serve, Erik?"

                _Well you served your 'purpose', Charles, but that doesn't mean I want to leave you behind, to forget about you!_

                "And on that note, I'd also like to inform you that human beings don't like to be used, especially when feelings are involved."

                _I noticed_ , Erik thought wryly, but immediately changed his mindset to something less sarcastic. _And I'm sorry._

                "And looking attractive isn't, going to get you out of this one," Charles finished.

_Wait what._

                Charles still had his hand clamped over Erik's mouth, but at some point, his other arm had come forward, pushing Erik against the side of the elevator. He could free himself easily enough, but to be honest, he didn't quite mind the position. And with the revelation of Charles's feelings for him, he could also kiss him. But romance wasn't a cure all. No. They had a bigger matter to sort out.

                "So, Erik, fess up." Charles pulled his hand away from Erik's mouth. "Why."

                _Oh good. A chance to speak. Finally._ Erik took a breath and mentally steeled himself.

                "I'm sorry."

                Judging from the surprised look on Charles's face, he hadn't been expecting that. The thought kind of stung.

                "I... I hadn't realized I was hurting you so much." Not what he meant to say. He'd realized he was hurting Charles quite a while ago. Weeks. Months. Perhaps another sentence would have been better, but every word counted here. He couldn't just take it back.

                Charles snorted and turned his head towards the back wall of the elevator.

                “No, no listen,” Erik tried, attempting to patch up what he'd just said. “I knew I hurt you physically, but you always let me back in the end. It felt like a cle—”

                _Okay, that’s it mouth. Mess things up one more time and you'll end up in detention._

                “Clean slate,” Charles interrupted, his voice breathy with disbelief. “Erik, are you even human? Have you heard of things called feelings? If you weren't aware, _Erik_ , I have a hell of a lot of them.”

                Something in Erik’s heart twisted. Yeah. He had feelings. They just got hurt, but he felt that that pain wasn't exactly undeserved.

                _Alright, mouth. Work with mind this time. This is the last chance you'll get._

                “I realize that now,” Erik attempted, lowering his voice to a softer tone. Charles scoffed, so all he could do was to try harder. He could do this. “I'm sorry, Charles, I really am. It’s just that I…I took you for granted. You were always a shoulder to lean on. I hadn't realized, I hadn't know that I was hurting you like that in the process and I…”

                Erik’s voice trailed off, but he wasn't done. He still had something else to say, and now was as good a time as ever.

                “Charles, you're very important to me. Charles, I love you, please—can you just forgive me? I’ll try my best to-to—”

                There. He'd just handed over his own heart on a silver platter. Letting the feelings overflow, he felt tears rush up to his eyes. He blinked, trying to make them go away.

                “Shh,” Charles said, his voice even and comforting as he guided Erik’s head to rest on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure who initiated the hug, but, seconds later, it was present. Warm and forgiving. “It’s okay,” Charles continued. “I forgive you. Just don’t pull anymore dick moves, okay?”

                Erik would have laughed in relief if he could, but he would have just choked on his tears.

                At long last, the elevator dinged, and the door opened. There was a brief pause after they both stepped out into the hallway. Erik took the opportunity to dry his face, while Charles appeared to be thinking about something.

                “My apartment,” Charles whispered, dragging Erik along by his wrist. “Now.”

                When they were inside and Charles had closed the door after him, he started advancing towards Erik. Charles’s eyes were charged with an emotion Erik couldn’t quite place, but he backed up anyways, his legs hitting the couch.

                “So. You love me.” Charles said. Whether it was a statement or a question, Erik didn’t know, but he nodded in response anyways.

                “Great,” Charles whispered, closing the gap between their bodies. “I love you too.” His right hand ghosted over the prosthetic. “Now remember, I’m fragile.”

                Erik could never forget. But that didn’t stop him from cementing their newly formed relationship in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually funny.  
> I like to pretend I am.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be no second part. Usually I'm better at endings. But I'm not going to keep writing from here.
> 
> Also the ending has more than one meaning. Did you catch it? I hate to leave such things unpronounced, which makes me a terrible writer in terms of all suspense and hidden meaning, you know?
> 
> I don't know. I don't even know what to tag this under.
> 
> Anyways, if you've gotten this far, I'd like to thank you for reading it. Like seriously, thanks.
> 
> (I feel so embarrassed.)


End file.
